Getting Jimmy Back on Topic
by PaperHat
Summary: Jimmy's got a problem concentrating. Gibbs attempts to fix it. Warning contains spanking/kink - don't like don't read, you've been warned.
1. Identifying the Problem

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Disclaimer - I do not own NCIS

_A/N A few weeks ago, Sasha1600 issued me a challenge to write an 'M' rated story on my least favorite character of Jimmy Palmer. I've been working on this for that long, yes, and have been given virtual kicks up the backside to have the guts to a) write the darn thing and b) to publish it. It finally came together this week, during a day I had off work, sitting in a Starbucks drinking coffee. Big thanks to Sasha for her patience with me._

_Here goes..._

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_**Warning. This is rated 'M' for a reason. Don't like spanking/kink don't read.**_

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"I'm at a loss, Jethro; I really do not know what to do."

Gibbs frowned, "And what exactly is the problem, Duck? I need a little more to understand why you are so pissed at him."

Ducky folded his arms, "He's just not on the ball, as you would say, 'his wicket doesn't have all the stumps', and he's distracted. I am persistently finding myself having to remind him to keep focused on the job."

Gibbs grinned, "Did you try smacking him upside the head?"

Ducky frowned, "Once or twice, but all he did was smile."

"I'll give you an example, Jethro. Last week, when we had that unfortunate young marine from that drug case, you remember, the one who was killed with that Ka-bar?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Well, I distinctly recall, as we were doing our initial examination of the body, saying to Mr Palmer that whoever had something that big would have real difficulty getting it into their intended victim's body, unless they were particularly skilled, and that it must have penetrated quite deep."

Gibbs stared at Ducky, confused, "A Ka-bar has a pretty big blade, Duck, what was the problem?"

"That's the problem, my dear fellow. I really don't understand why Jimmy started to snigger uncontrollably, and then muttered something about 'oh, I didn't realize you were talking about the knife'. I found it most confusing."

With narrowed eyes, Gibbs continued to question, "You said he is always acting distant? As though his mind is elsewhere?"

"Exactly, Jethro, his mind seems to be…."

"…in his pants!" Gibbs interrupted, suddenly realizing exactly what Palmer's problem was.

Ducky widened his eyes, "Oh! Oh my!"

There was an awkward silence, "That is perhaps why he started choking uncontrollably when I asked him if there was anything 'up' between himself and Agent Lee."

Gibbs sighed, "Do you want me to have a word with him Duck?"

"Well, really, Jethro, I have spoken to him on numerous occasions and, despite my interventions, there has been no marked difference in his behavior. In fact, I would say that things are only getting worse. Perhaps Mr Palmer needs a little one of your short sharp shocks to get his mind from the gutter to his work. I daresay he would benefit from your 'unique' approach to getting NCIS employees to concentrate on the task in hand."

Ducky folded his arms, "I'm a little reluctant to adopt your approach myself, you see Mr Palmer is such a sensitive young man, that I'm quite sure that it would make our working relationship a tad awkward. But, Jethro, if you wouldn't mind stepping in..."

A grin appeared, "It won't be the first time I've had that 'chat', Duck. Seen plenty of newbie Marines and had to remind them that they should have their minds on their target, their hands on their rifles and not on their….."

"Ah! Yes, Jethro, I think I understand and I would appreciate anything you could do get Mr Palmer back on topic."

"No problem, Duck," Gibbs replied as he spun around and strode out of autopsy.

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_Chapter 2 coming very soon I promise...please bear with me._


	2. The Conversation

**Disclaimer - I do not own NCIS**

A/N Thanks for all the help Sasha1600!

_**Warning. This is rated 'M' for a reason. Don't like spanking/kink don't read.**_

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Jethro Gibbs sighed heavily as his eyes wandered around the empty conference room. He frowned slightly at not having gotten a coffee before he planned to meet with Palmer. His frown turned to a slight grin at the prospect of having the 'chat' with Palmer about keeping his hormones in check. The last time he had had to deliver this particular message, he was in uniform. His mind wandered to the scene, recalling the young PFC in front of him, blushing with embarrassment as his Gunny chewed him out for persistently playing with himself. He could still recall the humbled expression on the young marine as his hands wandered behind his back and he found the need to rub a somewhat different part of his anatomy after opting for a taste of Gunny Gibbs's belt, rather than be written up for it.

The knock on the door brought Gibbs sharply back to the present.

"Enter!" he barked loudly.

The door creaked open slowly and a very nervous Jimmy Palmer popped his head around the door,

"You…uh…wanted to see me, Agent Gibbs?"

"Get in here, Palmer," Gibbs growled.

Jimmy hurriedly entered the room and gently closed the door behind him and stood with his hands at his side at the head of the conference table.

Gibbs stared hard at him before he ordered, "Take a seat."

It was difficult for Gibbs to keep a smile from his mouth; he knew that Jimmy Palmer was scared of him and that this meeting was going to be really uncomfortable for him. He inhaled deeply as he sensed that Jimmy probably wasn't quite aware of just how uncomfortable his backside was going to be before their meeting was over.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked firmly.

"Uh…I'm not sure…I've been…uh….well…no….perhaps."

Jimmy let out a huge sigh, "I've been….it's been difficult….things…I'm not sure….Agent….Gibbs….no."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, "Dr Mallard said that you seemed a little unfocused. From your response, I can see that that is very much the case."

Jimmy swallowed hard and pushed his glasses further up his nose and blinked nervously.

"Why are you not on topic, Jimmy?"

The redness appeared quickly on Jimmy's face.

"Uh…not on topic? I…uh…don't understand."

Gibbs frowned sternly, "Yes, you do. Tell me what the problem is."

Jimmy's cheeks grew pinker and his eyes brightened as his mind immediately went to the image of Michelle and the game they often played in which nothing was ever a problem,

"_Do you mind if I undo your pants, Professor Palmer?"_

"_Not a problem, Director Lee."_

"_Ooooh Professor, do you mind if I put my tongue here?"_

"_Oh, that is definitely not a problem Director"_

"_Professor, would you help me here?"_

"_Director Lee, that is not a problem"_

With a slight shudder Jimmy continued to stammer, "I d..d..don't have a problem Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at his response, "Oh I think you do. I think your problem is that you are too busy thinking with what's in your shorts and not with this," he snarled pointing to his head.

Jimmy's eyes met the floor, desperately focusing on the carpet, trying to keep his body under control.

"Look at me Palmer."

Jimmy coughed nervously and once again he fiddled with his glasses as he forced himself to make eye contact with Gibbs.

"Don't tell me that you're not finding it difficult to keep your mind on the job. Ducky says that you are constantly sniggering like a kid who's just bought his first nudie magazine!"

Jimmy bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from grinning exactly like the kid Gibbs had just described.

"It's immature and it's got to stop. For God's sake, Palmer, you need to learn to exercise some self-control or else get laid more often!"

Jimmy cracked and blurted out a giggle.

Gibbs raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed, "Oh, for crying out loud!"

He stood up and took his jacket off and placed it neatly over the back of his seat,

"I think it's time you got a little help to keep you focused on your job!"

Jimmy's eyes went wide and for a brief moment Gibbs felt sorry for him. He was just a young, healthy guy with overactive hormones, who probably never had to exercise any form of self control in his life. He eyed the scrubs he was wearing and frowned, realizing that he would need to go a little easier on him with that limited amount of protection for his backside.

"What do you mean, Agent Gibbs?" Jimmy asked nervously.

"I'm going to spank you, so that perhaps the next time you find your mind wandering to your dick, you will remember the consequences for your ass of not concentrating on your job. There is a time and place, Palmer, and you need to learn the difference between work and play."

Jimmy started to shuffle and squirm in his seat, his mouth flapping wordlessly, his face getting redder by the moment.

"Get up and bend over the desk."

"You're going to….s..sp…spank me?" Jimmy's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Gibbs nodded.

"W..will it…uh….hurt?" Jimmy asked weakly.

Gibbs placed a reassuring hand on Palmer's shoulder,

"Yes, it will, Palmer, but you'll be ok. Trust me."

Jimmy gulped hard and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He had heard the stories from McGee and DiNozzo of how Gibbs had dealt with them in the past. This was an experience he was desperate not to have. His mind raced through a million thoughts. On the one hand he would feel one of the guys if he managed to endure one of Gibb's spankings. However, on the other hand, he was quite sure that the pain involved was going to be a hell of a lot different, and more painful, than his playtimes with Michelle. This was an entirely different 'scene' that he wasn't all too excited about.

His stomach churned as he desperately tried to reconcile how the hell he was going to get through this without passing out cold. He nervously fiddled with his glasses once more and thought of Michelle and what she would have had him do in this situation. Immediately he could see the vision of her as his 'Director Lee' staring sternly, yet seductively at him.

He breathed deep and long and felt the nerves in his stomach change. Although his eyes were wide, he was to all intents and purposes no longer in the conference room, but the place where he could truly be himself, with the only authority figure to whom he would happily and readily submit. His entire body flushed with warmth as his mind totally focussed on the image of Michelle standing naked, holding her small pink paddle.

"_You've been a very bad Medical Examiner, haven't you?"_

"_Yes, I have, Director Lee."_

"_And what happens to Medical Examiners who upset their Directors?"_

"_Uh, they are punished, Director."_

Jimmy willed himself not to groan, as he responded in a low voice to Gibbs,

"I'm ready now to do what you want. Where do you want me?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrow in surprise at the younger man's response, "Over the table Palmer. I'm glad that you are at least having a mature response to why I am doing this."

Pointing to the table, Gibbs kept his voice low and stern as he reached down and unbuckled his belt and quickly pulled it from his waist,

"Come on, son, let's get this over with."

Jimmy quickly got into position and closed his eyes. Again, another image of Michelle popped into this mind, of her in her kinky doctors outfit, which consisted of a stethoscope and nothing else. Immediately he felt himself stiffen and he bit his lip to prevent a growl from the back of his throat.

"Ok, Palmer, this is going to hurt, but I want you to think about why you've found yourself in this position; that's the only way you're gonna learn!"

There was no response from Jimmy and Gibbs felt a pang of regret at the young man's audible, erratic breathing. 'Hell,' he thought, 'this kid is even more scared than I thought he would be. He's shaking like a leaf'.

With firm resolve, knowing how well it had worked for so many young marines in the past, Gibbs, took hold of the belt and raised it high, and brought it down hard across the trembling backside.

WHAP!

Jimmy groaned.

Gibbs raised his eyebrow in disbelief at the uncharacteristically subdued reaction from Jimmy and wondered if perhaps he had killed him instantaneously with the first stroke of his belt. The small shudder from the bent frame in front of him immediately calmed his gut and he raised his hand once more.

WHAP!

"Oh, Gaawwwd!" Jimmy drawled.

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief, hearing the howl of pain from Jimmy, reacting just as he thought he would do.

As the pain hit him, Jimmy rolled his eyes towards the back of his head. In his mind, he was not lying over the conference room table, but was sprawled face-down on Michelle's bed, handcuffed, as usual, to the bed posts. Michelle was teasing him once more with her pink paddle, alternating swats with kisses, creating a fire in his gut, his genitals and his ass.

WHAP!

When Gibbs brought the belt down hard again across Jimmy's backside, his mind rattled.

Sometimes Gibbs hated this part of his job, but he knew that it had to be done. Palmer was essentially a good kid, a wimp, but a good kid nonetheless. Perhaps a little marine discipline was exactly what he needed to toughen him up a little, turn him from the boy to the man he should be.

WHAP!

Jimmy squeezed his eyes tighter as the belt slapped just above his thighs. He hissed with the pain and immediately his erection got worse. Instinctively his hand reached down and he gripped and squeezed himself to relieve the fire and hardness he was experiencing.

"Aaawwww!" he groaned as he squeezed a little harder.

Gibbs had raised his hand, ready to lay on another stroke of his belt, when Jimmy let out his deep, throaty drawl. At that instant, his eyes widened as he recognized that Jimmy's cry was not exactly because he was in distress with the pain in his backside. He stood stunned, as he realized that Jimmy's hand was no longer resting on the table with his other one, but was down the front of his scrubs.

"PALMER! WHAT THE…?!"

_**To be continued...**_

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	3. The Solution

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**Disclaimer - I do not own NCIS**

A/N Thanks to all have reviewed. I really appreciate your support.

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_**Warning. This is rated 'M' for a reason. Don't like spanking/kink don't read.**_

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Jimmy stayed put, still teetering on the 'edge' and too far gone to notice or, indeed, care about Gibbs. All he could care and think about was finishing the job in hand….literally.

The ex-Gunny's belt was quickly thrown to the side and Jethro Gibbs slapped his two hands hard onto Jimmy's shoulders and hauled him up from the table. With one hand firmly on the scruff of his neck, he ran him out of the conference room, through the corridors, and down the emergency stairwell, heading towards the shower room.

"Woah! Agent Gibbs! What are you doing?" Jimmy squealed.

"Cooling you off, Palmer!" Gibbs growled in response.

When they reached the shower room, Gibbs threw Jimmy into the nearest cubicle, reached in and set the shower running, turning the dial to the coolest setting.

"Aaaargghh! A…Agent…Gibbs!...It's f..freezing!"

Jimmy struggled to escape the freezing water soaking him right through his scrubs. There was no means of escape, as Gibbs repeatedly pushed him back under the torturous jets of icy water.

"When I'm trying to teach you a lesson, Palmer, about the time and place for you to be jerking yourself off, I don't expect a god-damned practical demonstration of what you're supposed to not be doing!"

"Y…yes…sir!" Jimmy yelped, as he began to resemble a drowned rat.

Gibbs let the shower continue for a few minutes longer as Jimmy danced from one foot to another in a vain attempt to keep warm. Eventually he stuck his arm in and turned it off.

Jimmy stood shivering and dripping wet, his face pale and white. The signs of his earlier sexual excitement had now been replaced by a very humbled and sheepish boyish look.

"Get out!" Gibbs barked.

As Jimmy slowly emerged from the cubicle Gibbs whacked him hard upside the head and then, with a heavy sigh and a rub of his brow, he said quietly,

"Get dried off and report back to Ducky."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs."

There was an awkward silence as Jimmy stood still, the water continuing to pour from him and unable yet to control his shivering.

"Do you really want to have a career at NCIS, Palmer?"

"Very much, sir," Jimmy replied nervously.

"Well, get your mind and hands under control and perhaps you might manage that. Ducky doesn't deserve your attitude and you damned well know it."

Jimmy blushed through his pale face, "I'm so sorry, Agent Gibbs. I will try harder."

Gibbs stood tall and inhaled deeply,

"There are other ways I can discipline you, Palmer, that won't give you a hard-on. If you give Ducky any more problems, all it will take will be one phone call and I'll have two Gunnery Sargents PT you so hard, you won't be able to feel _anything _below your waist."

Jimmy's eyes widened and he nodded in acknowledgement.

Gibbs turned and left the shower room, immediately heading for Autopsy.

"Ducky!"

Gibbs barked as he entered through the sliding doors and he immediately grabbed some paper towels and started to dry off his sleeve, which had gotten wet in the shower.

"Jethro! Where is Mr Palmer?"

"He's drying off from his cold shower!" Gibbs snapped.

Ducky frowned and threw Gibbs a confused look, "Did you punish him?"

"Yeah, Duck, and right in the middle of it he…."

"He what?...Jethro! He didn't pass out did he? For goodness sake, man, I told you, he is a sensitive boy…"

Gibbs glared at the ME, "No! Duck, he did not pass out! He…started jerking himself off!"

Ducky's eyes grew wide.

"Oh dear….oh my!"

"Oh yeah," Gibbs added.

Ducky looked at Gibbs for a few moment before he couldn't suppress his smile any longer.

"Not what you expected from young Mr Palmer, eh, Jethro?"

Gibbs smirked in response, "No, Duck, not the reaction my belt usually gets. But I've warned him to stay on topic, or else I'll have a couple of Gunnys take care of him with some PT, boot camp style."

"Mmmm… it does appear that that might be a more appropriate deterrent for our young Casanova than your usual method, Jethro," Ducky said with a wince.

Gibbs placed his hand on Ducky's shoulder,

"Keep an eye on him, Doctor, and let me know if he needs some more motivation to his job."

Ducky nodded innocently,

"No problem, Jethro, if Mr Palmer needs a hand from you to relieve his hormonal urges, I'm sure you will be the man for the job in hand."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from explaining to Duck that what he had said could be taken entirely out of context. He decided not to embrace that topic of conversation with the older man and instead chose to nod quickly and make his way back to the bullpen.

As the elevator doors swished closed, Special Agent Gibbs felt a twinge of sympathy for the young, virile ME's assistant and dwelt on the fact that it had been longer than he cared to admit since he'd had to deal with similar distractions as frequently as Palmer seemed to lately. A few moments later he slapped the back of his own head, hard.

"That's for wishing you were Palmer!" he muttered to himself.

THE END

_A/N - Can I assume that I've met the challenge?_

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